


Unwilling to Sin

by Mrs_SimonTam_PHD



Series: SPN Kink Bingo 2019 [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Choking, Defiling Churches, Demon!Dean, Humiliation, Implied Top!Dean, Improper Use of a Rosary, M/M, Public Sex, dom!Dean, dubcon, implied bottom!Michael, priest!Michael, sub!Michael
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-05 23:27:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17334383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_SimonTam_PHD/pseuds/Mrs_SimonTam_PHD
Summary: Father Michael receives temptation and crises in the form of the demon Dean.





	Unwilling to Sin

**Author's Note:**

> Cross posted on tumblr
> 
> Written for the Sexuality Crisis square on my SPN Kink Bingo Card

Father Michael Milton sighed as he extinguished the last candle from the sanctuary. The church was quiet, the Tuesday night teen Bible study having been concluded two hours prior. He turned and looked up at the altar, staring at the marble cross that had been carved for St. Simon’s church when it was first built, the only light coming in was the small lights in the side chapel and the sacristy. The smell of incense hung heavy in the air, and the only sounds were the quiet footfalls of the young priest as he made his way back up to the altar, where he would do his private devotions before leaving and going back to his home to eat and prepare his next sermon before bed. 

Father Michael had been raised in a strict home, and as the second child (Richard was the first, and “Dick” as he preferred to be called, was an asshole- something that Father Michael had no guilt in when referencing his brother), was ‘promised’ at a young age to the Church. He wasn’t even allowed to have a girlfriend (much less a boyfriend- not in THAT “Christian” house) and had been pure for. . . the majority of his life. And for him, masturbation wasn’t even something he enjoyed. He simply did it because he knew it was healthy for his body to do so. 

And all of that was true until  _ he  _ came. 

_ He  _ being his personal tormentor, his own personal Satan wrapped up in candy apple green eyes and bowlegs and flannel. His temptation that even his faith seemed too weak to resist. 

The demon who would come to visit, to delight in tormenting the priest, making him do very,  _ very  _ sinful things in the church where Michael would preach to his flock, who seemed to take delight in making Michael wail about purity and sacredness. 

Michael has never had a crisis before, but every time the demon visited and did such dirty, filthy things to him, he would have a crisis. He’d cry on the floor of the church for hours, soiled in his release and the demon’s, and he’d wonder why he wasn’t strong enough to resist the attractive man who’s voice was saturated in whiskey. Why it had to be a man, Michael was unsure. He’s never been attracted to one before- although, Michael was still unsure of what ‘attraction’ was. Was he gay? He didn’t think so. But then again, demons weren’t human. So what did that mean for him?!

“Oh, bless me Father, for I have sinned,” The smooth voice that permeated his very soul purred behind him. Michael sighed, knowing he wouldn’t have a reprieve, turning to face the demon named Dean. “And I know, deep down, I’ll sin again.” 

“Mocking confession now?” he asked harshly, trying to hide how much that voice and face aroused feelings he both loved and hated within him. “Confession is good for the soul.” 

“Hard to have a soul, Father,” Dean smirked, shoving his hands into his jeans. His eyes flickered black. “That requires me to be human, and I am anything but.” They went back to that gorgeous green color. “So yes, mocking the church again. Why not? It’s just a way to keep sheep in line.” 

“People are not sheep, Dean,” Michael said. “They needed to be guided, certainly, but they’re not sheep.” 

“You all have a sort of blind faith,” Dean said, sauntering closer to the priest. “Blind faith to a God who has abandoned you, who abandoned you eons ago.”

Michael sighed. Dean was always trying to get him to fall, but he was stubborn. “I have yet to see proof of that, there are miracles every day,” he said. 

“Miracles,” Dean scoffed. “There’s no such thing. Never has been except for maybe people becoming alive after being dead for three days, and that has happened in centuries.” He stepped into Michael’s personal space, looking down at the priest. “Aren’t you tired, Mikey?” the demon asked. “Tired of preaching the words of a language that no one understands?” 

“I think everyone understands that Christ died for our sins because He loved us, even as He was one of us,” Michael replied. “Love is a powerful emotion, Dean. Stronger than hate.” 

“Do you believe that?” Dean laughed.

“I do,” Michael said. “Even a demon can repent and have life everlasting.” 

“Sorry, Padre,” Dean smirked. “I think I’ll stick my fire and brimstone. At least I know that’s real. How do you know God’s real?” 

“How do you know that he isn’t?” Michael countered. “I have faith.” 

Dean’s hand brushed against the front of his slacks and smirked darkly, eyes completely black. Michael swallowed out of fearful arousal.

“Want to play tonight, Father?” Dean purred. “See how depraved your mind really is?” 

_ No! This is wrong! You are married to Christ and His church- fucking around with a demon- and a male one- is not allowed! You shouldn’t! Cast this demon out of this holy place! _ Michael’s mind was screaming at him, reminding him of the Latin words of exorcism he learned because he was bored. But he was helpless. God forgive him, he was weak. He simply nodded. 

Dean smirked and nodded. “Face the altar of your God, Michael,” he commanded. “Oh, and give me your rosary.” 

“What?” Michael grabbed his rosary and held it in his hand. “No!” 

“Michael,” Dean snarled. The smell of sulphur reached Michael’s nose, and the man hurried to give it to him. “There,” he cooed, the smell going away. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? Now, turn around. And kneel.” 

Silently, Michael did so, his body betraying his conscience, which was screaming at him to do the right thing. The right thing being sending Dean back to Hell, where he belongs. Not. . . allowing him to defile the church. 

“Such a pretty picture you make,” Dean cooed as he stepped up behind him. Michael felt the beads of his rosary fall around his neck, the crucifix in the front. “All pious. Such a good little lamb for a nonexistent being.” He leaned in and licked the shell of Michael’s ear. “All mine to play with. And today. . . Oh, there won’t be many noises from you today, my little lamb. I don’t have too much time, but I need to give you a reminder that the big man up in the clouds may have your heart, but I own your soul.”

_ Lies!  _ Michael’s brain shouted.  _ Cast this fell demon out! _

Suddenly, the rosary was tight, too tight, and Michael gasped, his hands scrambling up to try to untighten it, his cock hardening even further in his slacks. Dean’s grip on the rosary was unnecessarily strong, the crucifix now pressing into the stiff white Roman collar. 

“So pretty,” Dean cooed. “You know, you look like my daddy did when he was younger. Strong jaw, dark hair, green eyes. You could be my daddy.” 

Michael shook his head, trying to speak, trying to get the rosary away from his neck as he choked.  _ No! _

“Have you ever wondered how many of your flock wants you to pound them while they shout for Daddy?” Dean chuckled darkly. “Father isn’t that far away from Daddy, you know.” He eased up on the rosary as Michael turned puce, smirking. “Deep breaths, Daddy.” 

“I should cast you out for such blasphemy!” Michael said hoarsely, shuddering as he gasped for air. “The title is sacred and means nothing like that, demon!” 

“I thought we were done with the name calling and the threats, Mikey?” Dean said mockingly. He reached around with his other hand and palmed Michael through his slacks. Michael keened and he laughed, the sound echoing throughout the sanctuary. “Oh, it’s not going to take much, is it? Someone’s wound tight tonight.” Dean nipped his ear. “What, was there some boy who’s no longer jailbait who’s got a nice, tight ass that you’d like to fuck?” 

Michael tried to scowl at Dean, tried to summon the words to cast him out, but he couldn’t, especially when Dean tightened the rosary again, still palming and squeezing Michael’s very hard dick. His hand was hot and firm and Michael let out a pitiful whimper. 

“Then again, the only ass you’ll ever get is mine,” Dean breathed, “And that’s  _ if  _ I let you. Not that you mind being on your knees for me, begging for me to fuck your tight hole. Remember how loud you screamed when I took your precious virginity?” 

Oh, Michael remembered. The pain, the shame, the  _ pleasure _ . All of it had come out in a loud cry that he’s certain should’ve shattered the Tiffany stained glass rose window. He cried after Dean had left him, naked and dripping wet. He still couldn’t believe he consented to that. To any of it.

“Choke on your faith, Father,” Dean whispered. “That’s all it’s good for. For you to choke on it. You may believe in old hocus pocus, but I’m very real. Remember that.” 

Michael tried to pray, for what he didn’t know, because then he was cumming, hard, unable to cry out as Dean’s hand milked his orgasm through his trousers. Only when he was spent did the rosary fall forward on his chest as Michael slumped the rest of the way to the ground, breathing heavily as his eyes closed, trying to get blood and oxygen in. 

“You’re fuckin’ beautiful,” Dean breathed. “Too bad I just ran out of time. Demon things, you know. Otherwise I’d paint that pretty face of yours in cum, mark you properly.” He leaned down and slapped Michael  _ hard  _ on the ass, causing the priest to cry out hoarsely. “Oops,” he said, not really sorry. Both of them knew that it’d leave a giant burn on his ass, right where Michael sat. “That’ll have to tide you over until I return. Adieu, Father. Peace be with you. . . if it can.”

In the space of a blink, Dean was gone. Michael couldn’t bring himself to care as he curled up on the ground, closing his eyes and crying. 

_ Forgive me, Lord. May your Son have mercy on me.  _

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell
> 
> Twitter: @Alendra_Dragon
> 
> Comments and Kudos are Shiny!!


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